


Plates of a car

by killing_kurare



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen, Hangover, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6598924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killing_kurare/pseuds/killing_kurare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt is hungover and thinks he remembers how he got home. But that's not quite how it went, as Mello clears up ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plates of a car

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



  
    
  
Mello doesn’t even look up as the door to the bedroom opens and his roommate shuffles into the living room. Matt groans and lowers his goggles as to shield his eyes from the broad sunlight that falls through the windows.  
  
“God, what time is it?” he asks.  
  
“5:30”, Mello answers, still devouring his chocolate and watching TV. “PM,” he adds, just to be sure.  
  
“Damn …” Matt mutters, scratches his head and throws himself onto the couch next to Mello. “What a night.”  
  
Mello wrinkles his nose and moves away from his roommate. “Yeah, I can still smell it on you.”  
  
Unimpressed Matt lights a cigarette, inhales and exhales a few times, then suddenly gasps as in shock, jumps up and runs to the window. “My car?!”  
  
“Chill out! Everything’s just fine,” Mello says and rolls his eyes.  
  
Matt presses his nose against the window and looks down. And indeed, his car is at its usual space. He breathes a sigh of relief and leans back, grinning widely. “See, I knew I was good to drive.”  
  
Mello huffs and looks over his shoulder to his friend. “Don’t be ridiculous, I picked you up yesterday. I drove, dumbass.”  
  
“Y-You? But I remember driving …”  
  
“YOU sat in the passenger’s seat, made dumb noises and steered with a paper plate,” Mello grins, taking another bite of his chocolate.  
  
“Come on, don’t fuck with me. I’d never do something this –“  
  
But before Matt can even finish the sentence, something that looks like a Frisbee comes aflying. He catches it swiftly and moves his goggles to take a look. It is indeed a white paper plate and something that resembles the steering wheel of his car is drawn onto it, with black marker in messy _(drunken)_ lines.  
  
“You were saying?” Mello asks smugly.  
  
“Shut up,” Matt sighs, slumps back onto the couch and lights another cigarette.


End file.
